The Coalition Of Pity
by MusicalBohemian
Summary: [Feed, by MT Anderson] Jule, a member of an anti-feed movement - the Coalition Of Pity - finds himself torn between his duties to the Coalition, his girlfriend, an acquaintance from the past and a dangerous, unruly colleague.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The mall was specifically designed to deaden sound, and the shopkeepers went on shopping regardless of the interruption.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" A voice persisted. "Units and unettes!"

A young man stood on a bench, a microphone pinched between finger and thumb, scanning the crowd for any sign that he had been heard. Crouched by his side was a girl, dark hair shielding the impatient expression on her face.

_Just use the feed.  
_

He turned his attention to the whisper deep inside his head, and glanced down to find his companion gazing insistently up at him. He frowned.

"No," he replied out loud. "That's exactly what we're fighting against."

_It's the only way they'll listen.  
_

He ignored the girl's feed message and raised his voice once again to the crowd.

"Units and unettes! Resist the feed! We are the Coalition of Pity." He raised his arms, fingers spread. "Listen to us! Hear what we have to say; the feed is taking our minds…the minds of you and your children! Where's individuality now? When was the last time we thought for ourselves? Before the feed! Join us and help us destroy the feed…before it destroys us!"

He quivered with the anger his speech had surfaced in him, and yet not a single head turned in the bustling crowd, although several brushed by just inches from where he stood.

_See! Their ears don't hear; only their minds_. The girl fed to him again. _Use the feed. Broadcast what you want to say!  
_

"No!" The young man yelled, and was instantly glad, for once, that he was being ignored. "Don't even suggest that! There's only one person in the Coalition stupid enough to try that, and it's not you!" 

He pocketing his microphone and jumped down from the bench. He stood in front of the girl, clutching her shoulders, their faces level. "We can't talk about it here. We should go. There's a Meet in an hour."

"Okay." She spoke aloud for the first time, after a pause. "You're right. Again."

Gratefully, he clasped her hands with his and, smiling, led her into the midst of the milling crowd.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A lightly bearded man strained ever closer to the miniature screen of a hand-held computer. It was dark in the large room- the Coalition of Pity's centre of operation- and the image on the screen as of poor quality; dim, grey, chipped.

Finally, his eyes adjusted to the slight glow, he reached out an arm and beckoned.

"Ember. Get Jule over here so he can see this."

The girl, glancing around, spotted her companion spread across a threadbare sofa silently mouthing words as he read them from a thick book. She slid over to him. They clasped hands once again and she led him towards the computer.

"Look at these, Jule. Security footage from under bridge ninety seven on the lower-east tube. There's no way of knowing what they're saying, but see the banners they've got." The man pointed to white blocks evidently being held up by distorted grey, vaguely humanised shapes. Every so often the blocks moved with tiny jerks. Jule shook his head.

"We're not all as short-sighted as you, Marton. Can't you get a close up on the signs?"

"I can try," replied the Coalition's chief technician, off-handedly. He tapped lazily at a key and the image jumped forwards suddenly. The grey shapes now took on more body-like forms and, to the young man's satisfaction, he could see faint slogans stencilled on the banners. 

The three read quietly. Breaking the silence, the girl snorted dubiously.

"They just seem like attention-seekers, to me."

"I don't think-" Marton attempted.

"Well, look at them! Dressed all in black and with ribbing in their basques and all that crap. You've seen their sort before at SchoolTM. They probably all have top-price feeds and all the extras!"

The two men glanced at each other. Ember sighed, exhasperated.

"Jule! Am I right this time, or what?!"

After a few moments he nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. This time you're right." Ignoring the girl's triumphant gesture he rushed on. "But I still think one of the Coalition should go down there to make sure. We need people on our side, Ember! These _attention-seekers_ could be what we need to make a difference."

At his side, Marton nodded. "I think you should go, Ember."

_Good morning, Julian Boden. Feedstats show you've been inactive for a worrying amount of time. Need Feed-Maintenance? It's easy! Send a feed-message to detailing your dilemma. Alternatively, visit your nearest-_


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

He let his upcar hover just outside the drop-tube of his SchoolTM. The vehicle protested with an unhealthy grating sound. It was an old model: a yellow Dodge Pheonix he'd got from a friend. The friend had been desperate to get rid of it.

The thought of a day in SchoolTM made him feel tired. Exhausted. He'd been awake all night at work for the Coalition and would have been more than happy to sleep through the day, if it weren't for the suspicion he'd arouse if he didn't attend his classes at least once in a week. Sighing, he scanned the parking lot for a place to leave the Dodge.

_Hey.  
_  
He spotted a space and glanced around for incoming traffic.

_Jule.  
_  
He sped towards the space and settled his upcar into it carefully.

_Hey. Okay today? Jule?  
_  
Jule sighed again. He knew Ember, knew she'd keep chatting him until he answered.

_Hey, Ember. Okay. I'm supposed to be at SchoolTM. Okay?  
_  
_Oh. Well, okay. But-  
_  
_But what, Em?  
_  
_Come over and I'll tell you.  
_  
He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

_Look, Ember. I'm late in like one minute._ He loathed himself for slipping into feed-talk.

_Jule, I'm being bombarded.  
_  
_Well, you know what to do. Don't delete it all at once, you'll just get it right back again. Cache it. Then delete it slowly, like you're hearing what the messages say. Remember you have to-  
_  
_It's okay, Jule baby.  
_  
_What?_ He gritted his teeth. He had his suspicions.

_I'm not being bombarded. Did I make you late for SchoolTM?  
_  
He watched as the leaves on the model trees surrounding the parking lot slowly grew red.

_Yeah, you did, Ember.  
_  
_I guess that means you'll have to come over here now?  
_  
He didn't need to answer. He pulled his Dodge back towards the drop-tube. There was always tomorrow for SchoolTM. Now, all he wanted was to sleep.

As his upcar fell downwards, he groaned again.

No chance of that, where Ember was concerned.

She was waiting outside when he arrived, squinting at a crack in her neighbourhood's dome as it let orange light in. It wasn't much of a home, they both knew, but infinitely better than having to share rooms at the Coalition. He parked his Dodge well out of reach of the harmful glow: it was unlikely he'd be able to afford another upcar – even second-hand – if this one got fried.

Ember disappeared into the house as Jule approached the door and, shrugging, let himself in. With the girl nowhere to be seen, he took the opportunity to rest, collapsing onto a familiar couch and closing his eyes. The couch expanded around him. As he lay there, he was vaguely away that his cache was full. He knew he should empty it. It would be just his luck for him to receive urgent Coalition information, and not have the storage capacity to accommodate it.

Still…Unlikely. Later, he told himself. Do it later. Right now, he wanted to sleep.

_Jule.  
_  
He'd almost been there; he'd seen that short jump between awake and asleep ahead of him. And now he'd just been caught in mid-leap and flown back to consciousness.

_Jule, listen. It's me.  
_  
_Ember._ Even his chat was slow, like his mind. _Ember, where are you?  
_  
There was a pause, so he rolled over, settling down again. Sleep was so close.

_Ember? What – Jule, it's me, Violet.  
_  
He jerked upright, forgetting about rest. The couch made a sound like suction as it drooped back to its original shape.

_Violet!  
_  
_Yeah, uh…who's Ember?  
_  
_Look, doesn't matter. Why are you chatting me?  
_  
_I don't know. I was bored? I needed to talk to somebody from the past…there was only one person I could…you know? You're the only one who doesn't hate me for what I –  
_  
He put the transmission on hold as he heard the kitchen door slide open.

"Jule? You okay? I found snacks." It was Ember. She shook a packet of Cheese Things at him. It was a vacuum pack, and didn't make a noise as it shook.

He sighed inwardly and broke the feed connection, meaning to cache his conversation with Violet for later playback. He remembered his full cache a second too late and swore, wishing – as he rarely did – that his feed was a more efficient model. He couldn't clear his cache without deleting his latest chat first. His chat with Violet.

Ember moved across the room and sat down next to him, the couch expanding again. Jule found himself sliding towards the girl as the chair tipped, and in a matter of seconds his chin was squashed firmly against her shoulder, her hip digging into his waist. At any other time, he'd have been content with the situation. Today, he wished he'd chosen any other seat but this to collapse on. He thought fast.

"Have you been to talk to those girls at the tunnel yet?"

Ember looked at him oddly, then began to wrestle with the seal on the bag of CheeseThings.

"No, actually. Why?"

"I think you should." 

"I'm _going_ to! I just haven't had time-"

"Oh, well. Okay." He felt annoyed. "But remember, they're potential Coalition recruits. You know your-"

"-My job." She finished for him, bored. "What's bothering you, Jule?"

"Nothing."

From the corner of his eye he saw Ember raise a hand slowly towards his cheek. He was so tired. He didn't want this; not now. He'd tell her.

_Violet chatted me a few minutes ago.  
_  
He loathed himself for his cowardice; he hadn't dared to say it aloud. Nonetheless, he was satisfied with the result the news had on Ember.

"Violet? What did she want with you? She was supposed to have…"

"Disassociated herself with the Coalition. I know. I cut her off before she told me why."

"Did you store the chat? Send it to me."

He shook his head. "My cache was full."

Ember considered him for a moment, a look on her face that Jule could not recognise or begin to understand. She nodded, slowly.

"Okay. But don't forget what she did. Just 'cause she decides to chat you after all this time…don't think you can trust her."

_Feeling green, Ember Wood?  
Don't worry!  
It doesn't have to be the colour of envy! Why not feel green and help improve our environment? Simply donate your credit and you could be contributing towards newer, more efficient air factories!  
So think about it, Miss Wood; don't feel jealous when you could be feeling-_


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"The problem," announced Jared Wiles to his assembled Coalition of Pity, "is that people just aren't listening."

Jule, among others, nodded. Jared noted this and was encouraged by it.

"I see you've all experienced the ignorance of those whose feeds control their minds. You must agree that if our messages fall on deaf ears we cannot begin to make a difference. We must be heard, but our latest course of action is failing.  
Now, broadcasting is out of question - as we all know – but do any of you have other ideas, regarding the feed?"

His words fell on silence as the fifteen-or-so attendants of the day's Meet considered the options. They all knew, ultimately, that it would be their wise, rational leader, Jared, who came up with the answer.

As it became clear that there were to be no suggestions offered, Jared Wiles sighed and scratched his head.

"I cannot solve this problem, either."

He gathered his thick coat around him and prepared to step down. A hoarse voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You know my idea, Jared." It was a small, old man, his crinkled face challenging his leader, white eyebrows raised.

"And you know my thoughts on the matter remain the same, Kiaran!" Jared returned, anger igniting in his eyes. "Broadcasting will never be necessary."

"But what if it's the last resort?" the old man reasoned in his harsh, gravelly voice. "What if it becomes a matter of broadcasting or failing?"

"If it comes to that, _friend_, we must fail."

There were murmurs, Jule noticed., of outrage at Jared's words; would their respected leader really throw away the previous work of the Coalition even while a last hope remained?  
Secretly, Jule was relieved. The thought of broadcasting terrified him. Silently, he willed the old man to back down.

"Why?" the hoarse voice called again. "Why should we fail, when broadcasting would solve all our problems?"

"Because the risk is too great. The broadcast must take place in a public place, as I am sure you are aware, therefore whoever we sent to trigger it would be witnessed by many. Think what would happen if one of us were caught. How long do you think it would be before the found the means to wipe us out?"

"Send me, Jared, to trigger the broadcast, and I swear that the minute they catch me I'll take my own life and keep our secrets safe."

"I don't want anybody to die," Jared Wiles sighed. It was a conversation he'd had many times before. "Broadcasting is dangerous not only to us, but to the people we trigger. We could damage them permanently. Our aim is to improve people's lives, not destroy them!"

The Meet adjourned, Jule joined a thoughtful Marton at his computer.

"Do you think Kiaran will ever give this broadcasting talk a rest?"

"No," replied Marton slowly, "only when he gets his way."

"Only _when_…?"

"Jared doesn't want to fail, Jule. He'll do anything for the Coalition, even if it means giving in to Kiaran. But I don't want to believe he'd be that stupid."

They sat in silence for a while, the click of Marton's mouse incessant, like a broken metronome.

"Ember had no luck with our potential recruits, then." Marton suddenly commented.

"What?"

"The tunnel was deserted when she arrived. I guess the Corps caught them. It was only a matter of time."

"When did she…?" Jule stammered. "She told me…yesterday. She said she hadn't been."

"Don't mention it to her." The technician beckoned and Jule leaned in towards him. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but don't forget why she's here. Without you, I doubt she'd give the Coalition a second glance."

He nodded, satisfied with Jule's guilty, wistful expression.

"Now go and give her a lift home."

As he edged his upcar into an unusually busy drop tube, Jule felt Ember's probing mind nudging his. He turned to glance at her, and found her staring back, face neutral.

_Sorry,_ Jule fed to her.

There was a pause. Her nudging continued. Suddenly, Jule knew just how to clear things up.

"Look, I haven't been contacted by Violet since!"

The probing abruptly stopped.

_Then you're entirely forgiven._ Ember smiled at Jule as he slowed his upcar outside her house. He was so surprised to see the relief in her eyes that he allowed the kiss that followed to go on longer than he'd have liked. H waved as she reached her front door.

_Jule._

Oh, shit.  
  
He felt his face redden and his jaw tense, and glanced back towards Ember, still on her doorstep, one hand raised towards a fingerprint scanner.

_Pleased to hear from me again, I can tell.  
_  
Did Ember's brow just crease slightly with suspicion? He didn't want to find out.

_Bad time?_ asked Violet as he sped away from Ember's neighbourhood.

_You couldn't have picked worse. Look, Violet; what about the disassociation? My girlfriend almost-  
_  
_I know. But…I wouldn't break the rules if it wasn't important.  
_  
_How important?_ Jule fed suspiciously.

_Important enough to risk getting you into trouble.  
_  
_Does that mean you'll come over?  
_  
_No. Maybe. Sometime...  
_  
_Remember the address?  
_  
_I'll dig it up from somewhere.  
_  
He imaged her amused smile, and instantly wished he didn't. He hastily cut off the feed connection. He needed time to think.

_Tough decisions can lead to big stress, Jule Boden. But don't fret; here's a choice you'll find easy to make…_


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

He made the decision two days later. The first of those days he'd spent at the Coalition, filing hard-copies of documents in small, rarely used box room; just one morning had been spent as SchoolTM, and the afternoon wiled away in bed with an array of migraine capsules by his side.  
Both days had been spent carefully avoiding Ember.

Once Jule had made his choice, he tried not to think too much about the consequences. Yet, as he dropped his upcar into a once-familiar neighbourhood his stomach jolted – not just from the sudden free-fall, but with the worry of what he could possibly say to Violet.

As he locked up his Dodge, Jule noticed how much shabbier the small street appeared, compared to the brand new, ultra-modern neighbourhoods springing up where old power stations and forests had stood. The doors along the ground-level street were coating with flaking paint, and the road itself was made of a crumbly material that had chipped away to create potholes – it was a road made for vehicles with wheels, not floating transport. A few upcars – models that had been popular three or four years ago – were parked in grey driveways.

At least Violet's house had a fingerprints scanner installed. Jule remembered the day it had arrived. They'd both raced to store their prints in its memory. He wondered if the device would still recognise his fingertips…

He touched his thumb to the tiny box nailed to the doorframe.

A shrill alarm sounded from somewhere deep within the house.

The door opened.

"Sorry, Jule. Six month fingerprint expiry. Maximum security. Dad branched out a bit since you were last here." She beckoned him inside. "Why he couldn't have spent the extra money on a decent car, he won't say."

Jule had expected a less comfortable greeting. Relieved, he laughed. "How is he, your dad?"

No, Jule, he cursed himself, get to the point.

"No less unhinged than usual," Violet said as she led Jule into the kitchen. "He's in his element, you could say. Especially since my disassociation with-"

"The Coalition. I hope that's why I'm here."

Violet paused at her visitor's briskness. "Well, obviously, but-"

"-Because it feels really strange being back here with you, Vi, and there are-"

"_Can we communicate by feed from now on, please. I don't want my dad to know you're here.  
_  
"Violet? Have you heard anything I've just-"

_Use the feed.  
_  
Jule hastily switched to the feed, ignoring the full cache awaiting his perusal.

_So tell me why I'm here.  
_  
_You're here so I can tell you something.  
_  
_Something you couldn't tell me from a distance?_ Jule hoped she noticed the doubt in his mind.

_It's something I need your opinion on…your true opinion. Not just one you'd make up to get me to leave you alone. I need to be able to see your face to know what you really think.  
_  
Amazing, Jule thought, how much she'd learned about him in eight months of knowing each other.

_Fair enough. What are you telling me?  
_  
Without speaking, Violet moved hastily to a cupboard, and grasped its handle.

_You don't want a snack or something first, do you?  
_  
"Violet!" Jule cried, aloud and exasperatedly. "Tell me your _'Coalition business'_ or I'll have to leave."

She closed the cupboard and returned to Jule, sitting down on a tall stool. She beckoned Jule towards a second.

_Okay. But I'm serious about my dad. If he hears anything about the Coalition he'll snap.  
_  
_I don't doubt that.  
_  
_So. Feed-chat only.  
_  
_Agreed. And the news is…?  
_  
_I want to get involved with the Coalition again.  
_  
Of all the things Jule had suspected, this was low on the list. _But you just said-  
_  
_If the Coalition say yes, I don't give a damn about my dad.  
_  
_It'll be a no, Violet.  
_  
_Almost definitely. But you can still try._ She said it shortly, indifferently.

_I can't! You know the trouble I'll be in if they know I've contacted a disassociate! Sometimes, you can be-  
_  
_Are you still close to Marton?  
_  
_Yes-  
_  
_Ask him. He understood the two of us.  
_  
Jule shook his head. _Marton couldn't break the rules for you – or me.  
_  
_I bet he would. For you, at least. Will you even just think about it?  
_  
_No.  
_  
_Take as long as you want.  
_  
He didn't answer. He hoped she assumed he meant 'no'. yet, he admitted to himself, he wasn't sure he could give a negative answer.

_I'm only asking you to think about it,_ Violet persisted.

_Okay!_ He felt resigned. _But don't contact me again. I'll contact you. When I'm ready._

_Looks like you're feeling torn…but all's fair in love and war, so don't let anything distract you from the biggest sale bargains at Weatherby and Crotch this summer! Because the season of love is only weeks away…_


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

"Between you and me, Jule, Jared's finding it hard to resist the more physical forms of protest."

The two of them, Marton and Jule, were eating together in the Coalition's shabby, makeshift dining hall. It was the prime place for gossip, and Marton was taking the opportunity to bring his friend up-to-date with the things Jule would certainly have known if he hadn't been caught up in other, more personal issues.

"Jared?" Jule shook his head in disbelief. "He'd be the last person to consider that!"

"It seems that way, doesn't it? But I had a chat with him yesterday…he's been testing methods in private. To see how effective they are, I guess."

"What sort of things?"

"Ad-hijacking and merchandise tagging, mainly. Harmless stuff. Obscure messages…gives the recipient something to think about, other than all the "great new bargains" and "special features", that's all.

He needed me to make sure the anti-tracking program on an edited upcar advert was secure…no good if the Corporations can trace us, is it?"

Jule was about to ask whether the messages seemed to be working when Marton hastily dropped his eyes and shovelled a sporkful of vegetarian risotto into his mouth – the Coalition boycotted all genetically-grown meat, on environmental grounds.

Jule glanced behind him, and saw Jared searching for a spare place at the long table. Jule was about to dig in to his own plate of spicy rice when he heard somebody addressing their leader.

"That last merch-tag go well then, Jared? A great pile of tables from Brazil, wasn't it?"

Jule could not catch the man's reply as he brushed past the pair of women who had spoken. A second later, another voice rang out. "You'll have to tell me more about this ad-jacking, Jared. Could finally make my wife see things from _my_ perspective!"

As the low chuckle reached Jule, he glanced at Marton.

"Between you and me, huh?"

Marton rolled his eyes. "Well…what can I say? I'm popular with the gossipers."

Jules snorted. "And they're the only people you're popular with! Jared's not…you know, he's not gonna…broadcast, is he?"

"No!" Marton replied loudly enough to turn several inquisitive heads. "I told you before; I don't believe he'd be that stupid."

" 'Course. I should've remembered."

Marton shrugged, and the pair of them continued their meal in silence. A minute or so later, Jule cleared his throat. He'd made a hasty decision.

"Ah, Marton…can I ask you something? It's important, and whatever you think, please don't tell anyone.  
Especially not Ember."

_Weatherby and Crotch…for all your clothing needs…feed…feed…resist the feed! Resist the feed! At the lowest prices…don't let the feed think for you; think about this: we can be free, if we just…reduced from nine-oh-five to just eight-eight-oh…think for ourselves! We don't need a chip in our head to know what we want to…register with us now and get a free Weatherby and Crotch shoehorn and unlimited…screw the Corporations! Thank you, we look forward to serving you at one of our OnFeed stores this summer._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

He rapped on the flaking door determined, this time, that the visit would be brief. At least, he told himself, he actually had a legitimate reason for being here. Business, a kind of mission, a job to do.

Violet opened the door with a look of excitement that could not altogether disguise the fear she was also feeling.

"So…?"

"It's a no, Violet." He'd got it over with quickly; so why didn't he feel relieved? Jule stepped away from the door with finality, and the girl's face turned white.

"Is this a joke? It's not a particularly funny-"

"Why would it be a joke? Marton said he'd ask Jared; Jared told him no. It's that simple. I did tell you. And now I'd better-"

He tailed off, aware both of the fact that he was jabbering and of Violet's deeply hurt expression. He watched in astonishment as a tear leaked out of her left eye and her chin creased, quivering.

"oh, come on, Violet, don't-"

She pointed an accusatory finger at Jule. "I bet you didn't say how important it be to me! You pretended you couldn't care whether they let me back in or not! And I thought you'd care at least a little bit, like you used to…"

All the while she talked – shouted – her face grew wetter and her cheeks shone brighter and brighter with tears. Eventually, Juke couldn't stand it and his business-like front fell away.

"Hey, look, Violet. I promise I didn't do any of that."

"Oh, no?"

"No! Jared's just following the rules. We all have to."

"But he _made_ the damn rules! Surely _he_ could break them?"

"I don't think so," Jule sighed. "I suppose your dad isn't home."

"No…How'd you guess?" Violet suddenly realised how much noise she must have been making. "Actually – don't answer that."

"So can I come in, then? We can talk this over."

"Sure."

Inside, Jule poured Violet a drink and found a packet of CheeseThings in a cupboard – they reminded him fleetingly of Ember, but he cut them open nonetheless, almost defiantly. The kitchen was amazingly familiar to him and he found his way around without a single hitch. 

"Thanks." Violet sniffed as Jule sat down beside her on a knobbly couch and handed her the packet and cup.

"I can still keep you up-to-date with Coalition matters," Jule offered, and Violet nodded. He had the feeling he'd just unknowingly committed himself to some kind of commitment. He was puzzling over this when he felt a warm weight on his shoulder. Violet's head was there, as it once had been, months ago.

_She's upset_, Jule told himself. _I'm comforting her. It's the natural thing to do.  
_  
As if to convince himself further, Jule placed an arm around the girl and lightly patted her shoulder. _Comforting…just-  
_  
Yet all thoughts of comforting slipped from Jule's mind and spun away into open space when Violet slowly lifted her head to kiss his cheek. And somehow, he must have jumped and moved slightly because…somehow…_somehow_, he found his lips on Violet's. For several seconds. Or could it have been more?

In any case, Violet's remorse had evidently cleared. "So, who's Ember?" she asked casually.

"W-what?"

"You mentioned someone called Ember a couple of times. I just wondered…"

"She's…ah…she's my…nobody. She's an ex-girlfriend, I guess." He grinned stupidly.

"Oh."

"Well, maybe I should go now, Vi. There's probably some other Coalition business I have go and…do."

"Probably." She stood and led Jule to the door. Opening it, she reminded him of something.

"You said you'd keep me up-to-date?"

Jule could only reply with a nod as he left.

_Message from: Ember Wood  
Message received: 6;55pm.  
Hey Jule, it's me. How come I haven't seen you in – what – 4 days? I swear I'm not angry with you…and if you're angry with me will you tell-_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Jule's avoidance of Ember continued throughout the next week, and the next. The small filing room became a damp, stuffy sort of haven; the one place in which he could think…the one place he could chat Violet with Coalition news.

He'd heard a loud and almost violent argument, walking past Jared Wiles' office room one afternoon. The voices he recognised were those of Jared and Kiaran, the old, harsh-voiced man whom Jared so often disagreed with.

"-A million times!" Jule heard Jared's fragmented shout.

"But if you'd just take the time t read the plans I left you, you'd _see_ how perfect it is" the voice insisted.

"The answer still remains no, Kiaran." And if you mention it on more time I'll have you out of the Coalition! You're more of a risk to us than a help!"

"I will not take no for an answer, Jared! I will not waste an opportunity like this-"

"Do what you like under your own ID…but _I_ will not have the Coalition's name associated with such a criminal scheme as _broadcasting_!

In other news, Jared's 'harmless experiments' continued – if the grapevine of Marton-originated gossip was to be believed - but to little effect. The Corporations soon tracked down the worst of the edited feed banners, and those that were not deleted were dismissed as small faults in an unimportant computer mainframe in some far-off, less-civilised part of the world. Nothing to bother about.

Jule also found himself avoiding Marton – and any of his enlisted gossipers – as much as possible. As a result, his filing room haven was a necessity.

However, there were days when there were no documents to sort through. At these times, he went as far from the Coalition as he could to visit Violet. He began to understand why she had chosen to disassociate herself; the Coalition was stifling and – as she often attempted to convince Jule – the feed wasn't entirely bad.

There was feed-messaging, and the ability to cache messages of value for later playback. Banners and other ads could be overlooked, but how would merchandise get to the consumer if it weren't for high-speed feed-transportation?

His exchanges with Violet always ended with a kiss – or a few- which he convinced himself were all part of a reminiscence on the past, nothing more.

In fact, the state of Jule's life became so dream-like that his awakening into reality one day shook Jule more than his worst nightmares ever had.

Ember was waiting for him outside his haven after lunch, the look on her face impossible to read.

"So, you're back."

It was an odd statement, so Jule opted for a co-operative but wary approach.

"Yes…"

"Must have been a pretty bad virus."

"Oh, it was. Don't remind me." He wondered what virus he was supposed to have had.

"Marton said it was some sort of cache overload."

Right.

"Oh, yeah. Must've forgotten to delete one too many banners, you know? I mean, I always said-"

"-But I didn't believe him." Ember interrupted.

"You…ah, didn't?"

"Nope. Because I know your cache has been just fine these past two weeks."

"How would you know that?"

"Because," she began in a falsely amiable voice, "I asked FeedTech to check your cache."

She saw the questioning look on Jule's face and obligingly elaborated.

"I told them I had a friend who thought he'd been the victim of dangerous junk messages. And that he couldn't contact FeedTech just now because the massages had blocked his system.  
So, I suggested they check all incoming feed-messages, because my friend told me the sender seemed to be using an ordinary name. And I gave them your ID."

Jule had such a sense of foreboding at what he knew must be to come that he couldn't bring himself to be impressed by this impressive scheme.

"And then they told me just what they'd found in your cache. A couple of banners. No messages from a certain Ember Wood – I suppose they must have been deleted accidentally. And finally, about fifteen or twenty from a Violet Durn."

By this time, Ember's voice had reached a pitch so high that Jule could barely make out Violet's name. When he did, he supposed he should have felt trapped like a bird in an upcar's headlights; guilty, maybe. Perhaps he should have apologised, or even begged and grovelled at her feet. Perhaps it was the absence of this, above all else, which caused Ember to say what she did next.

"Now Jule, I _really_ don't want to know what you and _her_ have been doing together, but e both know you've broken a Coalition rule. You've associated with a disassociate. And probably worse."  
Jule was wondering just what he and Violet were supposed to have done together when Ember dealt him the greatest blow of them all.

"-But that's all going to stop now, isn't it, Jule? Because if it doesn't, Marton's gossipers are gonna have something to gossip about until their mouths shrivel up!"

"…Or until Jared catches the grapevine…" Jule finally voiced his chief far. Ember nodded at him, triumphantly.

"So, I want you to stop seeing Violet. I mean, she used you back before…back then. I never did. Think about it. I'll give you a day."

"…I wonder why it's called a grapevine?" It was the shock that had made him say it, but he figured ember would take it as defiance. 

"Piss off and do what you have to do, Jule," she hissed as she walked away.

_Deleted message search completed.  
Search keywords: Violet Durn, sorry, forgive.  
Target: Minus 7 months.  
Results: Sorry I couldn't get that shirt you wanted; it only came in pink, love Violet Sorry about my dad. He'd taken his feedpack off and couldn't remember where he'd put it; he was convinced it was an omen, love Vi Sorry I didn't chat you back yesterday. I had to show a cousin round; she's here for a week, Vi Sorry I haven't chatted you since Saturday, but I've been really busy, Violet Sorry about last week…the trip was unavoidable, Violet Sorry, sorry, sorry for making you think I used you, Jule. I regret that more than everything else and I hope you can maybe understand that the only reason I stayed in the Coalition was because of you. Not that I wanted to piss anyone off or make them jealous; not Ember, not my dad, and definitely not Marton. It was completely because I loved being with you. I mean, still love…Please forgive me and I promise I-  
Message was blocked at this point._


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

He pulled out of a drop tube onto a familiar route.

Without the Coalition, Jule had nothing; he'd even lose the upcar it had taken him so long to earn. He couldn't give it up.

Not just for Violet.

He knew it now; all the times Violet had said she'd been busy last winter…she hadn't. He had no idea what she'd been doing. And when she finally drifted away from him, from the Coalition of Pity, she'd said her father wasn't happy with the trouble they could get into…Ember had been there for Jule.

And now Jule, too, was doing the same…drifting away from the Coalition, his friends, Marton, Ember. He knew he didn't want to become as lonely as Violet, couldn't get himself disassociated.

Yet even so, he didn't think he could tell it to Violet. Not face to face.

Jule pulled into a lay-by amidst the furious honking of horns. He ignored them all and composed a short feed message.

_Sorry, etc, that I can't contact you any more. My place at the Coalition depends on it. I'm hoping you'll understand. Jule._

His cache set to block incoming messages, he learned back in his seat, listening to the hiss as upcar after upcar sped past him en route to their meaningless, feed-orientated destinations.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

The air surrounding Coalition HQ the next day was, quite literally, buzzing. There had been an accident at a disused metalworks factory nearby and the area was crackling with waste static electricity with nowhere to go. To avoid getting hurt – as Jule learned the hard way, after attempting to close the door of his upcar – it was advisable not to come into contact with conductible metals or other people.

Electricity was not the only thing passing through the air; from the fragmented chat that reached his ears, Jule gathered that the unrelenting Kiaran had left for the moon on an untold mission. Jule remembered the argument he'd overheard outside Jared Wiles' office; he had a good idea of just what the secret mission was to be.

After all, hadn't Jared stated that his rival could do what he liked under his own ID? Kiaran had gone to broadcast his message to holidaymakers from every part of the world. Jule wondered what action his leader would take.

By the afternoon, it was evident that there would be no action taken against Kiaran at all. Jule had chosen a seat at the dining bench within hearing distance of Jared and a worried Marton. As he ate, Jule kept an ear trained on the conversation.

"Really, I don't think _any_ action is necessary, Marton. I believe Kiaran will act under his own name. So if he gets himself arrested it should be of no concern of ours."

"But," Marton pressed, "what if he mentions the Coalition?"

"Then the Coalition will deal with it as – and _if_ - it arises."

Marton, plainly still troubled, looked away and caught Jule's eye across the table. For that second, things seemed almost normal again; but then Marton's gaze passed on, seemingly without recognition.

Wounded, Jule fought the impulse to lead up from his chair and storm away, until a sudden nudge from within his feed settled his mental struggle for him.

Alone in his haven, Jule began to investigate just what could have been strong enough to slip pas the barrier he'd placed around his cache. He found a message with a large attachment.

_"Greetings, Earthling!  
Violet Durn has invited you to view a magical montage from up here on the moon!"  
A satellite view of the moon.  
Bright, crowded streets.  
A market selling moon memorabilia.  
Grinning faces attached to floating bodies in a lo-grav café.  
A boy in a spacesuit waving to his parents.  
A slim waitress carrying a large sundae in a half-moon dish.  
Families lazing around a glass-roofed pool, gazing up at a dark, starry sky.  
Teenage couples dancing and grinding in a dimly-lit club.  
Dancing. Music. Fun and happiness. Dancing-_

Jule stopped the images. Sighing bitterly, he opened the feed message.

_Hi, Jule. You might've guessed where I am…wishing you were here? I'm not sure. The truth is, I've come to the moon to have some fun. To finally live like a normal teenager.  
And it's working, Jule. I've met these people – I'm in their hotel room – and they're all, like, completely unhinged but for once I don't even give a damn! Because this is how we're supposed to be living!  
Living with the feed.  
So I guess this is probably the last time I contact you.  
So, goodbye, Earthling. Violet._


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Jule woke to a sound he had spent all his life avoiding. At first, he thought it must just be an effect of the ocean of static in the air, but as the noise grew louder and showed no signs of receding he finally accepted it for what it was: the wailing of Corporation upcar sirens.

He jerked from his bunk to find Marton – who occupied one of five bunks – scrabbling his way through an old chest of drawers.

"Marton, what the hell…?"

"Come with me when I go to find Jared and you may find out!"

With that, Marton strode across the small room to the door, jerked it open and set off down the corridor, leaving Jule with no choice but to fall out of bed and follow.

A minute later the pair were catching their breath outside Jared's, a room that doubled up as his sleeping quarters at night. Marton banged on the door, although Jule half expected it to be empty. A grim-faced Jared emerged.

"I don't know." He growled.

"But surely-"

"I _don't know!_ Except that this has something to do with that traitor, Kiaran, and we'll all be arrested if we don't leave this minute!"

Al traces of leadership gone, Jared shouldered past the two stricken roommates and disappeared around a corner.

"Do you think," Jule suggested hesitantly, " we should be following him?"

"Sure as hell."

The pair started down the corridor.

_Come out quietly and nobody will be hurt.  
_  
They froze.

"Did you just get that?"

"Yeah. Do we ignore it?"

"I don't think we should."

_I repeat; we don't want to hurt any of you. As long as you come out quietly.  
_  
"You think everybody else here got it too?"

"I guess."

_We'll give you five minutes.  
_  
"Goodbye, Coalition of Pity."

"Good riddance, feed resistance."

And, Jule imagined, throughout the building, other people must have been saying the same thing.


	12. Epilogue: After the Coalition

**Epilogue: After the Coalition**

The Corporations kept to their word in that none of those people who emerged from the Coalition building that day were harmed. Further still, they admitted they had no intention of condemning everybody. Protest groups were formed and quickly broken up all the time: since the Coalition of Pity had failed to have any great impact on society, it was dismissed as just another one of these.

Jule learned, during his questioning, just why the Corporations had taken action.

On the evening of the twentieth of July, an old man caused a disturbance in a moon club. The man's name was Kiaran Owensson. He had used several people at the club – the majority of them teenagers – to broadcast an obscure anti-feed message to the public.

The victims had to be shut down and taken to a nearby hospital for maintenance. The old man died from extensive head injuries inflicted by the security officers at the scene.

On awakening, many of the victims found a single message waiting in their disabled caches:

_You have been hacked by the Coalition of Pity._

END


End file.
